DARK SOULS: Waiting Until The Dawn Comes
by LeaNightingale
Summary: "Please wait for my return, Ciaran. And I will make you my righteous wife."
1. Chapter 1

The faint breeze brushed against her bare skin as the Lord's Blade entrusted her loyalty to silence, eyes gazing up upon the darkness, twinkling with little diamonds.

It was a peaceful night, at least for now. The moon was shining above the old city of Gods, embracing Lordran in its mild chest.

She had always adored this city, always adored those silent nights, always her favorite moment to enjoy the quietness without selling her precious time meaninglessly.

Rising her chest and exhaled a deep breath, Ciaran tragically chortled to her own, leaning her feminine figure against the window frame as she gradually closed her tiresome eyes.

There she was; Ciaran - the mysterious Lord's Blade, the member of the Four Knights; unarmed.

Truth to be told. She was completely unarmed and harmless at the moment. Her fragile frame was covered with a blue robes which hugged her woman curves perfectly from ever angles.

She was a _woman_ , after all.

And she had her own, her very own feelings, toward a specific man yet she dare not say the word.

She chose to seal her personal matter as she put on this porcelain mask, and hid away her features, hid away her expressions.

Ciaran desperately refused to face the cruel truth, yet, she could not refuse that it was the dead end of her story. She could not say more nor could she say less. For, that man who she adored, he was this legendary knight, everywhere Gods envied him, every women adored him; and he was this kind-hearted type, somewhat _silly_. Everytime he laughed over a silly thing, she couldn't help herself thinking how much she loved him, and how obvious did this feeling start to grow stronger and stronger from time to time, then she'd start to shift uneasily under the pressure of her own mind. Eventually, she'd catch him shotting a weird gaze at her, then followed the hearty laugh that lightened her day.

Oh, how long had she wished she had enough encouragements to dare slip the word. Yet she chose to be shy, and forbid the letters in...unspecified amount of time, and let her feelings faded.

After all, it was not _her_ to decided.

Ciaran then smiled bitterly, feeling the cool of the air hitting her face and kept her awake during the sleepiness of her ownself. But of course, she'd drown in this drowsiness if it wasn't for the scent of the man she loved tickling at her nose. He was _near_ here, probably practicing for tomorrow challenges.

Ah..He always had this unique scent of strong warrior and reliable lover, _pheromones_ , she'd say. He poured pheromones and she could detect it (with her natural senses of an assassin), it raised her curiosity to know whom he was aiming for.

And she'd simply wished, it was her, Ciaran.

But, that couldn't be the truth, could it? She meant, with this size of body, with this features of face, she was a sight for sore eyes, and she'd probably be seen as a ridiculously small figure under his observation.

Plus, another matter-of-fact, for as little as Knight Artorias was spoken of, the Lord's Blade herself was even less than him. Despite the fact that Ciaran was Lord Gwyn's most trusted and favorited, The Four Knights, thus so far, only known as it included Dragonslayer Ornstein, Knight Artorias and Hawkeye Smough; few knew about her existence, few could put a name to her face.

She wasn't very noticeable, was she?

The Lord's Blade sighed, mumbling to herself as she unwillingly threw her completely-bruised, sabotaged body on the softness of the bed as she felt the fur brushing against her skin, causing the blonde to curse under her breath.

Ciaran then began to _whine_. "Oh, my dear, dear Artorias.." She hissed weakly as she recalled the meeting between Lord Gwyn and the Four Knights.

Why did her Lord command Artorias himself to fight against the Abyss?

Why did her Lord ban Ciaran herself to be locked down in her own chamber?

Why did her Lord unreasonably order Smough and Ornstein to guard The Princess of Sunlight?

Why did Princess Gwynevere is so unresponsive about her father's aggressions and sudden demands?

Where was Gough all the time?

Had the world gone mad?

She sighed. Today would probably be the last day she will ever see him in his old armour, wielding a greatsword so firmly along with his loyal companion - Sif, the Great Grey Wolf.

And that was that, she supposed, end of her story, end of the line.

"Artorias.." She whispered, particularly sobbing and cursing vigorously.

But who would hear her sob? Who would share her burden? Who would listen to her? The Lord's Blade was all alone. So, so, lonesome that she burst out of crying, and broke her vows as a Lord's Blade.

A silent night.

And a dull future.

Ciaran was about to cry herself to sleep until her sharp senses of an assassin awakened her sensation by another man's certain presence in her chamber.

 _Pheromones?_

A frown yet made, she parted her lips as about to question the stranger, who seemed to venture in the wrong place, _of all the time._

"Wh-"

Word unformed. Mouth sealed by a pair of familiar hands, the stranger leaned on her shoulder as his head drowned in her neck, enjoying her scent with such greediness.

"Wai-"

Ciaran struggled, yet failed the attempt to break away as a deep voice banned her from talking.

 _Silent._ Was the single word that he spoke.

The time stopped as the fragile woman stopped her struggling, instead, eyeing the man was looming over her carefully, and with such great shock..

 _Artorias._

"Silent, Ciaran.." The Knight said, cooing in her ear gently.

The Lord's Blade shivered slightly as hia breath was tickling her ear to death, sending a wave of chill down to her spine. Softening her voice, Ciaran broke the awkwardness with a certain sarcastic. "Sir Artorias?"

He paused, shaking his head. "Oh, no, no please, Ciaran..Please banish the word 'Sir'. I only want to hear you crying my name, _my name_ , with no politeness in it." He said, brushing his thumb against her cheek.

"S-.." She hesitated. "A-Artorias.."

"Right." He smiled, pulling the woman up as Artorias settled the little Lord's Blade in his warm embrace, trying to inhale her scent as greedy as possible. "My dear Ciaran.."

Ciaran wouldn't and _didn't_ trust if this is true at all, yet, she'd smile, and blushed like a little teenage girl. She could feel the blood ran in her cheeks boiled up as the blonde buried her face in his chest, hiding her shyness with great desire; she craved for his warmth as much as he yearned for her scent.

The Abysswalker set a faint kiss on her forehead as he lifted his lips, blue orbs meeting with her lovely golden eyes. "My dear Ciaran, I will have to leave this place for good..Yet I don't want to leave you alone here.." He made a pause before striking her heart with his fear-filled eyes. "..Ciaran..Abandoned this forsaken place and head to Oolacile Sanctuary. At dawn..I will meet you there..Always..If you do not see me, then please wait. I will return, and I will take you to a far-away land, so we could live together. I am tired of all this ranks, tasks, and this complicated life. Humans truly are greedy, yet they seemed to have a more restful life than us, I shall find the answer why, and I shall bring you with me."

Artorias then lifted her hand up and fit in her ring finger a silver ring with a wolf sign on it, delicately; and promisingly.

He vowed. "This is out promise symbol..Do not betrayed our promise together, Ciaran..I will be back, and I will take you away..No matter what happens, hold this ring onto you, and I shall find where you stand."

Ciaran did not wholly understood, somewhat even conflicted by his words. Yet, she'd choose to listen and prayed for his safety, even if it was to betray her vow as a righteous Lord's Blade; she loved this man, she always will.

The woman then pressed her small lips on his nose as she whispered promisingly words. "Be gone..And be safe..I will wait for you until the dawn comes."

 **Author: My first time writing a fanfiction. By the Gods, I was so nervous, and scared. I was hoping for good feedback but nope! Please tell me what do I need to fix, and what do I need to add.**


	2. Remake

_"Lord's Blade."_

 _"Greetings, Knightess."_

 _"So, Lord's Blade. O, pardon me. You are a new 'Lord's Blade', are you not?"_

 _"I am."_

 _"Knight Artorias found you surrounded by Darkwraiths, was it?"_

 _"...I beg your pardon, I must leave."_

 _"O, forgive my rudeness. I don't have that kind of_ thought, _Lord's Blade. I just want to know: Were you rescued by the Knight himself?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"Ha-ha. I see it in your very eyes, Lord's Blade. You love him."_

The faint breeze brushed against her bare skin as the Lord's Blade entrusted her loyalty to silence, eyes gazing up upon the darkness, twinkling with little diamonds.

It was a peaceful night, at least for now. The moon was shining above the old city of Gods, embracing Lordran in its mild chest.

She had always adored this city, always adored those silent nights - her favorite moment to enjoy the quietness without selling her precious time meaninglessly.

Rising her chest and exhaled a deep breath, Ciaran tragically chortled to her own, leaning her feminine figure against the winudow frame as she gradually closed her tiresome eyes.

There she was; Ciaran - the mysterious Lord's Blade, the member of the Four Knights; unarmed.

Truth to be told. She was completely unarmed and harmless at the moment. Her fragile frame was covered with a blue robes which hugged her woman curves perfectly from ever angles.

She was a _woman_ , after all.

And she had her own, her very own feelings, toward a specific man yet she dare not say the word.

She chose to seal her personal matter as she put on this porcelain mask, and hid away her features, hid away her expressions.

Ciaran desperately refused to face the cruel truth, yet, she could not refuse that it was the dead end of her story. She could not say more nor could she say less. For, that man who she adored, he was this legendary knight, every Gods envied him, every women loved him; and he was this kind-hearted type, somewhat even.. _silly_. Everytime he laughed over a silly thing, she couldn't help herself thinking how much she loved him, and how obvious did this feeling start to grow stronger and stronger from time to time, then she'd start to shift uneasily under the pressure of her own mind. Eventually, she'd catch him shotting a weird gaze at her, then followed the hearty laugh that lightened her day.

She remembered this very day, when she knew, despite destined or not, she was bound to be his forever.

Oh, how long had she wished she had enough encouragements to dare slip the word. Yet she chose to be shy, and forbid the letters in...unspecified amount of time, and let her feelings faded.

After all, it was not _her_ to decided.

Ciaran then smiled bitterly, feeling the cool of the air hitting her face and kept her awake during the sleepiness of her ownself. But of course, she'd drown in this drowsiness if it wasn't for the scent of the man she loved tickling at her nose. He was _near_ here, probably practicing for tomorrow challenges.

Ah..He always had this unique scent of strong warrior and reliable lover, _pheromones_ , she'd say. He poured pheromones and she could detect it (with her natural senses of an assassin), it raised her curiosity to know whom he was aiming for.

And she'd simply wish, it was her, Ciaran.

But, that couldn't be the truth, could it? She meant, with this size of body, with this feature of face, she was a sight for sore eyes, and she'd probably be seen as a ridiculously small figure under his observation.

Plus, another matter-of-fact, for as little as Knight Artorias was spoken of, the Lord's Blade herself was even less than him. Despite the fact that Ciaran was Lord Gwyn's most trusted and favorited, The Four Knights, thus so far, only known as it included Dragonslayer Ornstein, Knight Artorias and Hawkeye Smough; few knew about her existence, few could put a name to her face.

She wasn't very noticeable, was she?

The Lord's Blade sighed, mumbling to herself as she unwillingly threw her completely-bruised, sabotaged body on the softness of the bed as she felt the fur brushing against her skin, causing the blonde to curse under her breath.

Ciaran then began to _whine_. "Oh, my dear, dear Artorias.." She hissed weakly as she recalled the meeting between Lord Gwyn and the Four Knights.

Why did her Lord command Artorias himself to fight against the Abyss?

Why did her Lord ban herself to be locked down in her own chamber?

Why did her Lord unreasonably order Smough and Ornstein to guard The Princess of Sunlight?

Why did Princess Gwynevere is so unresponsive about her father's aggressions and sudden demands?

Where was Gough all the time?

Had the world gone mad?

She sighed. Today would probably be the last day she will ever see him in his old armour, wielding a greatsword so firmly along with his loyal companion - Sif, the Great Grey Wolf.

And that was that, she supposed, her own feelings will be forgotten.

"Artorias.."

She whispered, particularly sobbing and cursing vigorously.

But who would hear her sob? Who would share her burden? Who would listen to her? The Lord's Blade was all alone. So, so, lonely that she burst out of crying, and broke her vows as a Lord's Blade.

A silent night.

And a dull future.

Ciaran was about to cry herself to sleep until her sharp senses of an assassin awakened her sensation by another man's certain presence in her chamber.

 _Pheromones?_

A frown yet made, she parted her lips as about to question the stranger, who seemed to venture in the wrong place, _of all the time._

"Wh-"

Word unformed. Mouth sealed by a pair of familiar hands, the stranger leaned on her shoulder as his head drowned in her neck, enjoying her scent with such greediness.

"Wai-"

Ciaran struggled, yet failed the attempt to break away as a deep voice banned her from talking.

 _Silent._ Was the single word that he spoke.

The time stopped as the fragile woman stopped her struggling, instead, eyeing the man was looming over her carefully, and with such great shock..

 _Artorias._

"Silent, Ciaran.." The Knight said, cooing in her ear gently.

The Lord's Blade shivered slightly as hia breath was tickling her ear to death, sending a wave of chill down to her spine. Softening her voice, Ciaran broke the awkwardness with a certain sarcastic. "Sir Artorias?"

He paused, shaking his head. "Oh, no, no please, Ciaran..Please banish the word 'Sir'. I only want to hear you crying my name, _my name_ , with no politeness in it." He said, brushing his thumb against her cheek.

"S-.." She hesitated. "A-Artorias.."

"Right." He smiled, pulling the woman up as Artorias settled the little Lord's Blade in his warm embrace, trying to inhale her scent as greedy as possible. "My dear Ciaran.."

Ciaran wouldn't and _didn't_ trust if this is true at all, yet, she'd smiled, and blushed like a maiden. She could feel the blood ran in her cheeks boiled up as the blonde buried her face in his chest, hiding her shyness with great desire; she craved for his warmth as much as he yearned for her scent.

The Abysswalker set a faint kiss on her forehead as he lifted his lips, blue orbs meeting with her lovely golden eyes. "My dear Ciaran, I will have to leave this place for good..Yet I don't want to leave you alone here.." He made a pause before striking her heart with his fear-filled eyes. "..Ciaran..Abandoned this forsaken place and head to Oolacile Sanctuary. At dawn..I will meet you there..Always..If you do not see me, then please wait. I will return, and I will take you to a far-away land, so we could live together. I am tired of all this ranks, tasks, and this complicated life. Humans truly are greedy, yet they seemed to have a more restful life than us, I shall find the answer why, and I shall bring you with me."

Artorias then lifted her hand up and fit in her ring finger a silver ring with a wolf sign on it, delicately; and promisingly.

He vowed such promising words; so promising that Ciaran could imagine a bright future with him, a home. "This is our promise..Do not betrayed our promise together, Ciaran..I will be back, and I will take you away..No matter what happens, hold this ring onto you, and I shall find where you stand."

Ciaran did not wholly understood, somewhat even conflicted by his words. Yet, she'd choose to listen and prayed for his safety, even if it was to betray her vow as a righteous Lord's Blade; she loved this man, she always will.

The woman then pressed her small lips on his nose as she whispered desperately sweet yet hopeful words. "Be gone..And be safe..I will wait for you until the dawn comes."

 **Author: My first time writing a fanfiction. By the Gods, I was so nervous, and scared. I was hoping for good feedback but nope! Please tell me what do I need to fix, and what do I need to add.**


End file.
